


Applied Intervention Dynamics

by Raj_Sound



Series: Intro to Community Fanfiction [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Rom-Com Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raj_Sound/pseuds/Raj_Sound
Summary: The Greendale Seven host an intervention to address the Jeff and Annie of it all.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger, Troy Barnes/Britta Perry
Series: Intro to Community Fanfiction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884427
Comments: 111
Kudos: 207





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place on November 9th, 2012. For the continuity-minded, _Applied Intervention Dynamics_ takes place after _Intro to Felt Surrogacy_ (Season 4, Episode 9) and before _Intro to Knots_ (Season 4, Episode 10). The rest of Season 4 proceeds more or less canonically, with some minor alterations to account for the events of this story, but then the rest of the series is a proper alternative universe, starting with _Intro to Business Law_ as the first episode of the absent spring semester of Season 4 and the rest of the series extending into Season 5. I've got a number of episodes in progress, including a series finale. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy and Abed playing spy games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This "episode" is canon compliant up to the end of Season 4, but takes place before Advanced Introduction to Finality. Since I don't have to worry about Chevy Chase being Chevy Chase or Donald Glover leaving to pursue other projects, this series will break from canon at the beginning of Season 5. Enjoy!

The walk to the study room is uneventful at first. Jeff and Annie meet in the parking lot, a habit they fell into further back than either of them could remember. It gives them a chance to chat without interruption by the rest of the Greendale Seven. They love their little misfit family, but their scrutiny was suffocating at times, and they valued the little time they set aside for just the two of them.

“So they just ditched you?” Jeff asks. On most days Annie carpools with her roommates, but today she drove to campus alone in her sad excuse for a car.

Annie shrugs. “I don’t think they did it on purpose,” she explains, as if Troy and Abed’s behavior was comprehensible. “You know how they are. Half the time they’re in their own little world. This morning they left the apartment wearing trench coats, fedoras, and sunglasses. I think they just forgot about me.”

Jeff scowls as he sips his coffee. It’s too early for Greendale insanity. “Crap. This better not be another paintball thing.” They swore they were done with paintball last year, but promises like that were begging to be broken.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I think they’re doing Spy vs. Spy.”

Jeff is unconvinced. Only half of Troy and Abed’s games stayed self-contained. The rest had a habit of spreading across campus like a blanket fort. As if on cue, Jeff spies Troy standing by the bushes next to one of the campus buildings. His fedora is dipped low over his G-man sunglasses, obscuring his face. The coat he’s wearing is far too large for him, but it’s obviously Troy.

“The eagle is in flight,” Troy whispers into his collar, loud enough for everyone around him to hear clearly. Troy has many gifts, but subtlety is not one of them.

Jeff is unimpressed. “I think they’re spying on us. Poorly,” he remarks wryly.

“Hey Troy,” Annie says brightly, giving him a cheery wave. “What are you doing?”

Troy drops his walkie-talkie. He recovers it, drops it again, recovers it again, and whispers into it even louder in a panicked voice. “I’ve been made. I’m going to ground. Radio silence.” He dives behind the bush, which completely fails to conceal him.

“Idiot. We can still see you!” Jeff shouts. Troy crawls behind another bush. It’s smaller than the first bush and hides him just as poorly. “How have you managed to live with those two for so long without killing them?”

Annie giggles at her roommate’s slapstick antics. Troy manages to hide the top half of his body behind the bush, but his backside is still in plain view. “They’re not that bad. Whenever they start to bug me, I just turn on some cartoons and that usually keeps them busy for a couple of hours,” she explains.

Jeff grins. “Wow. You’re going to be great mom,” he teases.

Annie rolls her eyes. She has no intention of letting her children be raised by television. She’s seen how that turns out.

The pair walk in comfortable silence the rest of the way to the study room. They have known each other well enough and long enough to simply enjoy each other’s presence. There’s something else between them too, something intimate and beautiful, charged and magnetic, but it’s complicated and it scares them both, so it remains mostly remains unsaid.

They encounter Abed outside the library. He is as conspicuous as Troy, but seems less concerned about it. He leans against the corner of the building, pretending to smoke a cigarette. His costume is identical to Troy’s, but it fits him better. His coat billows in the wind, like a lanky brown Colombo.

“The eagle is approaching the nest,” Abed murmurs into his walkie-talkie. “I repeat. The eagle is approaching the nest.”

“You know, the whole point of being a secret agent is to avoid drawing attention to yourself,” Jeff grumbles. He knows it’s futile. Abed is in character and is therefore immune to criticism.

Abed just stares at Jeff. The _duh-doy_ is implied.

Annie smacks Jeff’s arm. “Just let them have their fun,” she scolds. She knows that leaning into their weirdness is the safest way to navigate it. Jeff knows this too, but he still resists out of principle.

They almost make it into the building before they notice the third trench coat. Dean Craig Pelton slinks past Jeff and Annie like a pink panther, singing what can only be a deeply disturbing rendition of the James Bond theme song. He doesn’t appear to be wearing pants.  
  
“Dean, de-de-de dean, dean dean dean, dean de-de-de dean, dean dean dean. Dean, de-de-de dean, dean dean dean, dean de-de-de dean, dean dean dean…” the Dean sings to no one in particular, but probably to Jeff if he’s being honest.

Jeff sighs. “Please tell me he’s wearing something under that coat.”

Annie doesn’t reply.

* * *

_Get me some rope_

_Tie me to dream_

_Give me the hope_

_to run out of steam_

_Somebody said_

_it could be here_

_We could be roped up, tied up, dead in a year_

_I can't count the reasons I should stay_

_One by one they all just fade away_


	2. Act 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say it's an intervention, but it's more like an imposition.

Jeff gives up any hope of a quiet, uneventful day as soon as he and Annie enter the study room. The table is gone and five of the chairs are arranged in a half circle. Two are positioned next to each other, facing Pierce, Britta, and Shirley, who are seated in the half circle. Britta wears glasses she doesn’t need and holds a notepad and pen in her hand.

Abed’s voice crackles in over Pierce’s walkie-talkie. “The eagle has landed. I repeat. The eagle has landed,” he says quickly.

“We know Ay-bed,” Pierce replies. “We can see them.”

Troy and Abed slink in from behind and take their seats next to Pierce and Shirley. Britta beams with a manic glee.

Annie’s brow furrows. “Are we...late?” she asks cautiously.

“Nope,” Britta says way too brightly. “You two are right on time. Have a seat.” She directs Jeff and Annie to the pair of open seats opposite the group.

Jeff and Annie share a look. They’ve entered the lion’s den. Annie takes her seat. Jeff doesn’t.

“What’s going on?” Jeff demands, taking advantage of his height to accentuate his authority as the study group’s unofficial leader. “Where’s the table? And why are you all looking at us like we escaped from a mental institution?”

Shirley responds first, using that saccharine sweet voice she uses when she’s about to say something unpleasant. “Jeffrey, Annie, we want you to know that this coming from a place of love. We all care about you and we feel…”

Britta reaches the end of her patience. “INTERVENTION!” she roars, slapping her knee triumphantly.

Troy pats Britta’s knee. “Way to ease them into it Britta,” he mutters sarcastically.

Pierce looks around the room, confused. “Intervention? Is that what we’re doing?” he asks.

“Pierce, we went through this already,” Britta complains.

Pierce bristles, then recovers. He stands and clears his throat, preparing to speak with unearned confidence. “Right. Of course. I’ll take it from here. Jeffrey, we feel it’s time you finally came out of the closet,” he explains incorrectly. “You’ll be much happier once you embrace your gayness. Britta here has been an out and proud lesbian for years, and I think I speak for the whole group when I say...”

Troy sighs irritably. “He definitely does not speak for us.”

Britta tries to retake control of the conversation. “As a psychologist…”

Jeff cuts her off. “Psychology major. On academic probation. At Greendale.”

Britta continues, undeterred. “As an expert on the mind, I believe it’s time we confront some disturbing behavioral issues that have had a negative impact on our study group. No, our _family_.”

Jeff considers the options. Alcohol seems like the most likely candidate. More than half the group has struggled with substance abuse issues at some point in their lives. He doesn’t think his drinking is a problem, but that’s usually part of the problem.

“Is this about the drinking?” he asks. He sounds more defensive than he intended. “Because I have cut back. The scotch was wreaking havoc on my calorie count.”

“That is a separate problem that we’ll need to address at another time, but that’s not what this is about,” Shirley says gently.

“Well, don’t look at me.” Annie says aggressively. “I’m clean. I haven’t been Annie Adderall for years. More like Annie Four Years Sober. Up top!”

Annie reaches up for a high five, which Jeff reciprocates without needing to look.

Abed assumes control of the conversation. “This isn’t about Jeff’s high-functioning alcoholism or the risk of Annie relapsing when she realizes she’s got competition for valedictorian,” he explains in his typical unemotional rapid-fire cadence. “This is about a different kind of addiction. This is about their Jim and Pam, Luke and Lorelei, Joey and Dawson, J.D. and Elliot, The Professor and Mary Ann, Kermit and Miss Piggy situation.”

“I’m sorry. What was it you said about valedictorian?” Annie asks, fairly alarmed.

“Normally I can keep up with your pop culture references, but I’ve got to admit, you’ve lost me Abed,” Jeff says sardonically.

“I’m talking about the Jeff and Annie of it all, the Will They or Won’t They, the unresolved sexual tension and general ship tease we’ve all had to endure since season one.”

Britta chimes in. “It was creepy at first, and then it was kind of cute for a while, but now it’s just incredibly annoying,” she says smugly.

Abed continues his exposition, ignoring Britta. “Your emotional tango is always good when we’re short on plot, but eventually we’re going to hit a point of diminishing returns on the drama we can elicit from your star-crossed lovers routine.”

“We are not star-crossed lovers,” Jeff and Annie protest simultaneously.

“So we’re just imagining all the googly eyes and hand-holdin’ and sneakin’ off to do Lord knows what?” Shirley asks skeptically.

“You guys have made out like, a bunch of times,” Troy offers thoughtfully.

For a long time, Troy was under the impression that Jeff and Annie were already a couple and were just keeping it a poorly-hidden secret, but Britta insisted this wasn’t the case. She was probably right, and even if she wasn’t, it’s important to let Britta think she’s right sometimes.

“Annie basically gave Jeff a lap dance back when we all got hooked on glee,” Abed adds.

Jeff turns to face Annie, who is suddenly reluctant to make eye contact with him. “You told _Abed_ about that?” Annie buries her face in her hands.

“Actually, she told Britta and Britta told Shirley and Shirley told Troy and Troy told me.”

“Sorry Annie,” Britta says sheepishly.

“Why am I always the last one to hear about these things?” Pierce complains.

Annie stands up in a vain effort to deescalate the situation. “I’ll admit, we’ve had our fair share of lingering glances, intimate exchanges and charged moments over the years, but we’re _friends_ ,” she insists.

“Yeah. Best friends,” Jeff asserts. He’s surprised at how easily he says it and how much he means it.

“Really?” Annie asks, beaming at him. She never had a best friend before. The sentiment leaves her feeling warm and happy.

“Of course,” Jeff reiterates, as though it’s obvious. “No offense to the rest of you, but if I had to choose a favorite, it would be Annie. Especially right now.”

“Awww,” all three of the women coo in unison. Britta and Shirley manage to ignore the last part of what Jeff said.

“Offense taken,” Pierce blustered indignantly. “Annie’s my favorite. She can’t be your favorite too.”

“Offense taken…” Troy muses. “You guys remember Todd? He was the worst.”

“That boy sucked. He kept going on and on about his dumb baby,” Shirley piles on. “I can’t stand it when people won’t shut up about their kids. Save it for Facebook people.”

The rest of the group avoids making eye contact with Shirley. They’re accustomed to tolerating a certain margin of hypocrisy from their most pious member.

“I think we’re getting off topic,” Britta interjects.

“Indeed,” Abed says. “This is important. We need to focus.”

“Why do you care Abed?” Jeff asks. Abed’s grasp on personal boundaries is still tenuous at best, but he isn’t usually one to meddle in the group’s interpersonal affairs.

“You’re my friends,” Abed explains matter-of-factly. “I want you to be happy. I think you’ll be happier together than you will pretending you’re ‘just friends’ indefinitely.” He expresses the air quotes with his hands.

“That’s mostly on you Jeff,” Britta adds. “You’re the one hung up on the fact that Annie was a teenager when you met her. Which, gross, but she seems to have a thing for older men, and it’s not like she’s a teenager anymore, so who am I to judge?”

“Vaughn, Rich, Mark Ruffalo, Jeff,” Troy says, counting them off on his fingers. “Huh. Annie does like old dudes. Why didn’t I pick up on that sooner?”

Jeff grimaces at being referred to as an old dude, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Can you guys please stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Annie complains.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jeff says irritably. He’s straddling the line between irritated and outright angry at this point.

“Was that sarcasm? Did you forget to inflect?” Abed asks.

Jeff takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, reminding himself that these well-meaning idiots are his friends. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here. But all of you are way off base here.”

“I don’t think so,” Abed insists. “Right now you're like Chandler and Monica. Classic opposites-attract on the surface, but more alike than not deep down. Your relationship has the narrative potential to form the emotional bedrock of our group as we transition into an uncertain future. You two are endgame material. But if you drag the Will They or Won't They past the emotional payoff point, you run the risk of becoming tedious, or worse, toxic. Like Ross and Rachel.”

“Please tell me you get that reference,” Shirley asks Annie, annoyed that a show about a bunch of self-centered white people is still a cultural cornerstone almost a decade after it ended.

“Yes. I’m not _that_ young,” Annie replies.

Jeff seizes an opportunity to deflect. “What about Troy and Britta? I don’t see anyone harassing them around their relationship.”

Abed is ready for this. “They’re the beta couple. They’re the stable, uncontroversial, some would say boring couple that serves as a foil to the romantic leads. No offense.”

“None taken buddy,” Troy replies, as they do their best friend handshake.

Britta frowns. “I’m a little offended,” she mutters. Troy squeezes her hand affectionately, appeasing her for the moment.

“Well, what about the rest of you?” Annie demands.

“I’m happily married,” Shirley says, clutching her purse.

Pierce chimes in, happy to have something relevant to say. “I’ve been seeing a lovely Eastern European woman named Melanoma.”

“Her name’s Melania and she’s only in it for the green card and half your money,” Troy grumbles. This isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation with Pierce and it won’t be the last.

“I’ll probably meet my doppelganger eventually. There’s bound to be a like-minded, romantically available, sexually compatible partner for me somewhere out there,” Abed muses.

The whole group takes a moment to imagine what such a person would be like.

“By ‘partner,’ you mean woman, right?” Shirley asks carefully.

“Sure. If that helps you.”

Jeff sighs. “I can’t believe I’m the one that has to say this, but we should probably study.”

“Not until you two talk about your feelings. To each other. Like adults. For realsies,” Britta insists.

“Enough,” Annie snaps. “This…thing. Whatever it is. It’s between me and Jeff. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

“I wish that were true,” Troy says quietly. “But you two keep making it our business.”

Annie gasps indignantly. “Name _one_ time.”

Jeff groans. Annie should know better than to set them up like that.

“Should we give them examples?” Pierce asks.

“Oh, I think they want examples!” Troy shouts.

Jeff sighs and looks up at Abed. “Clip show?” he asks wearily.

Abed shrugs. “We pretty much nailed it with the first two, but it’s not like the last episode of a trilogy is ever disappointing.”


	3. Act 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Not’ Dating, Texas Hold’em, the Festival of Lights, Medieval Fight Club, and The Tale of the Greendale Ghost.

Troy finds himself at a loss at how to spend his evening. Abed is stuck having dinner with his dad. Meanwhile, Britta has taken it upon herself to mediate the latest dispute between Pierce and Shirley. Something about the merits of Black History Month, and why isn’t there a White History Month, because that seems fair according to Pierce, and honestly Troy wasn’t paying that much attention anyway.

As he walks down the hallway towards Apartment 303, he decides he’ll see if Annie wants to hang out with him. They don’t get as much one-on-one time, and Annie is really cool to hang out with. Not as cool as Abed of course, but cool in her own way, especially now that she no longer has a crush on him.

Annie isn’t alone when he enters their apartment. Jeff is with her. They’re cuddled together in the blanket fort watching TV. Jeff has his arm draped lazily around Annie’s shoulder. She’s leaning into his side with a blanket draped over both of their laps. She looks sleepy, but content.

“Hey Troy,” Annie says cheerfully. “Did Shirley and Pierce bury the hatchet yet?”

Troy loses what little interest he had in that conflict. “What are you doing?” he asks. It’s not quite an accusation, but Troy finds himself feeling something that he would later describe as a big brotherly protective instinct.

“Watching a movie.”

Troy looks at the screen. Billy Crystal is giving an impassioned speech to Meg Ryan.

“This,” Troy announces, gesturing to Jeff and Annie and blankets and cuddling and the romantic comedy on the TV, “is a date. You two are on a date right now. You realize that, right?”

“It’s not a date,” Jeff replies.

“Really. What did you guys do tonight?”

“We went out to dinner and decided to watch a movie afterwards,” Annie explains.

“But we got to the theater too late, and the only tickets they had left were for The Avengers,” Jeff adds.

“Which we already saw,” Annie clarifies quickly. She isn’t prepared to share her disinterest in the Marvel Cinematic Universe with Troy and Abed yet.

“The socially acceptable minimum number of times,” Jeff clarifies. He’s good at picking up Annie’s cues.

“So, we decided to watch something here instead.”

Troy is justifiably skeptical. “A romantic comedy. _The_ romantic comedy. About best friends who fall in love. Starring Meg Ryan.”

Jeff shrugs. “It’s a classic. Annie hasn’t seen it.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t warn me about the restaurant scene,” Annie laughs, smacking Jeff’s knee.

“Consider it payback for Hector the Well-Endowed,” Jeff teases.

“Oh god. I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“It was very educational. Who knew Annie Edison had such dirty mind?”

Annie gasps that indignant and slightly pornographic gasp of hers. “I was in character,” she pouts.

“Well, whenever you find someone that meets your impossibly high standards, you’re going to make her a very happy woman.”

Touching, flirting, inside jokes, easy intimacy. Jeff and Annie made being a couple look easy and _apparently_ they’re not even a couple and Troy loves Britta, but Britta is _not_ easy and honestly, it makes Troy a little mad. Actually, a lot mad.

“Unbelievable. How can two people that are this smart and this good-looking be this oblivious?” Troy rants. His voice gets higher as he goes on. “I don’t understand you. Are you doing this on purpose? What is wrong with you? Why are you like this?”

Troy storms off to his room. He doesn’t mind being the third wheel, but he refuses to be the third wheel to two people who are pretending they aren’t a bicycle.

That metaphor was flawed.

“What’s with Troy?” Jeff asks.

“Just ignore him. You know how emotional he can get,” Annie replies.

Unfortunately, they can’t actually ignore what Troy said and suddenly Jeff and Annie find themselves feeling unbearably self-conscious. They separate from each other, creating a respectfully platonic gap between them while they finish the movie. Intimacy is easy when they don’t think about it, but talking always makes it harder.

* * *

“You guys are basically already dating,” Troy explains. “Which is cool. You’re really good together. You’re like, chocolate and peanut butter. Chocolate, great by itself. Peanut butter, great by itself, especially if you’re trying to make friends with your neighbor’s dog. Chocolate, not so good for that. That’s not the point. Anyway, each are great on their own. But if you combine them, they are legendary.”

Britta lifts her boyfriend’s hand to her lips and kisses it. “Babe, I know you mean well, but you have got to stop comparing people to food. It’s weird.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Annie protests. “Friends should be able to express affection for one another without everyone assuming they’re doing…other stuff.”

“Yeah. There’s nothing sexual about platonic…shoulder holding,” Jeff insists.

“Speaking of sexual…” Pierce begins.

* * *

Annie and Jeff stare each other down across the table, their gaze a mixture of fury and lust. It’s almost like they’re circling each other, two predators, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Jeff is down to his boxers, the ones with the Beetlejuice stripes. Smug, sexy bastard. Annie is down to her bra and panties, a matched floral set, dainty and feminine. Precocious little bitch.

The flashback is tastefully framed. The poker table obscures the lower portion of their bodies and Annie has her arms crossed over her chest. Still, surprisingly little is left to the imagination. So much for trying not to sexualize her.

“You’re bluffing,” Annie smirks.

“Only one way to find out,” Jeff retorts.

Shirley shakes her head. “The Christian woman in me should look away, but the sexually vibrant woman in me cannot. Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned,” she laments.”

“Didn’t this start out as a regular poker game?” Britta asks. She left the game hours ago. She lost all seven dollars of her money on the first hand.

“This is great!” Pierce giggles. He was asked to leave the table once he was down to his undershirt and boxers, but he’s happy just to be there.

“It escalated quickly,” Abed explains. “Competition plus sexual tension is an explosive combination for those two. Plus, they’re both broke. Our rent money is buried somewhere under that absurdly large pile of clothing.”

There is indeed an absurdly large pile of clothing in the middle of the table.

Jeff is secretly desperate for a way out. Last time he butted heads with Annie, his Real World audition became public. Competition Annie is _scary_. Still, his poker face doesn’t waver. “Annie, you proved your point. There’s no shame in folding now.”

Annie doesn’t buy it. She is so _done_ with Jeff handling her with kid gloves. She is a grown-ass woman. “Sorry Jeff. You can’t Winger speech your way out of this one. I’m all in. Time to put your money maker where your mouth is.”

Annie’s face twists in embarrassment at her awkward and unfortunate turn of phrase.

“Wow,” Jeff smirks. “That was tragic.”

“Shut up, S.E. Cupp,” Annie retorts defiantly. “Are you in or are you out?”

Jeff stares her down like a lawyer interrogating a combative witness. “Fine. Call.”

Jeff’s pair of fives is nothing to brag about. Whatever. It’s fine. He’s won with less.

Annie’s pair of queens might be a problem.

Flop. Four, six, and seven. Suits are a bust for a flush. He’s calm as he tries to calculate the odds of a straight or at least another five.

Turn. Ten. Okay, that doesn’t help either of them.

River. Jeff is sweating. He doesn’t believe in God, but he silently prays for a three, five, or an eight. He isn’t actually going to make Annie strip in front of the whole damn school, but maybe they could work some kind of sexy quid pro quo out at his place and get your mind out of the gutter, this is _Annie_ we’re talking about and why is she smiling?

It’s the queen of hearts.

The cheers are deafening. Some, because they want to see the goods. Most, because they enjoy the prospect of watching Jeff Winger being taken down a notch.

Jeff, for the record, is a gracious loser. “Well done, Dan Harrington,” he says magnanimously. Nobody gets the reference. “Action Dan? He was admitted into the World Series of Poker Hall of Fame in 2010?”

“Boo! You can do better Winger!” Duncan shouts from somewhere in the crowd.

“Action Dan wouldn’t have lost his boxers on a pair of fives,” Leonard cackles. Jeff’s geriatric nemesis always knows how to push his buttons.

“Shut up Leonard,” Jeff retorts. “I know what you did last summer.”

“He really needs to update his references,” Abed deadpans.

Troy shakes his head sadly. “I can’t watch,” he laments.

Britta shrugs. “Eh. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Winger’s wang is nothing to write home about.”

With that, Jeff stands up, tastefully obscured by the back of Pierce’s head. He drops his boxers and tosses them onto the pile.

Annie and Jeff share a smile. He winks at her when he catches her gaze shifting down. She blushes, but she flashes him a knowing grin.

“Huh,” Pierce grunts, unimpressed. “Is it just me, or is it cold in here?”

Shirley fans herself with a Greendale pamphlet. “Feels hot in here to me.”

* * *

"I’m just saying, despite the fact that Jeffrey is gay, the sexual tension between him and Annie is so palpable and thick you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it. You know, now that I think of it, it’s possible that Jeff is attracted to both men and women,” Pierce muses. “I wonder if there’s a word for that. Both…sexual? Bothsexual. Look at that! I just invented a new word!”

Pierce is proud of this accomplishment. The rest of the study group silently, but unanimously, decides not to take this away from him.

“Okay! Yes, obviously there’s some degree of attraction there,” Jeff admits. “I mean, look at her. I’m only human.”

Annie grins and sits up straight, unconsciously thrusting out her chest in the process. Good posture is important.

Britta smacks Troy on the back of the head when she catches him ogling his roommate. Troy too is only human.

“It’s not just about sex,” Britta insists. “It’s about feelings. Real, big, complex feelings deep in your dumb little hearts. You,” she proclaims, pointing to Annie, “are trying to get him to love you, because if you do, you think you’ll never be unloved again. And you,” she says, pointing to Jeff, “are afraid of hurting her, because all you’ve ever done is hurt and disappoint the people you care about and you think that’s all you’re capable of.”

Britta isn’t usually this insightful.

“So strap in dummies,” she declares. “You’re about to get therapized.”

* * *

Greendale Community College devotes an obscenely large portion of its budget to less than educational pursuits. In theory, the Ye Olde Greendale Renaissance Fair was a history project. In practice, it was another excuse for colorful costumes, intricately choreographed dances, and sweaty dude fights. According to Britta anyway.

“Star-Burns!” Sir Jeffrey roars, pointing his broadsword at his star-burned adversary in black armor with righteous fury, “This is your last chance! Recant your slanderous lies or prepare to taste cold steel.”

Technically the swords are composed of foam rubber. They’re basically toys. The armor is made of spray-painted cardboard too. Still, it’s pretty epic.

The Black Knight, also known as Star-Burns, known only to himself as Alex, leaps onto the bottom step of the bleachers. The football field is serving as Ye Olde Greendale Renaissance Fair’s jousting arena. It’s not like the football team is using it.

“You can’t win Winger!” Star-Burns bellows mockingly. “I have the high ground.” He swings his blade down like a woodcutter’s axe, but Sir Jeffrey parries masterfully.

“Oh yeah?” Jeff does the sensible, mature, and tactically sound thing and jumps up two steps. “Well, now I have the high ground!” He thrusts, but the Black Knight dodges.

Star-Burns hops up another two steps. “I have the high ground!”

So does Jeff. “I have the high ground!”

They reach the top of the bleachers before they clash foam rubber swords again.

Princess Annie watches the bizarre dance from below with the rest of the crowd. Her cheeks are flushed, her bosom heaving in an elegant, but very flattering period-appropriate silky blue dress. #AnniesBoobs.

Annie finds herself wondering a number of different things while she watches this duel unfold.

  1. Why is this happening? _Because Star-Burns claimed that Annie is “a freak in the sheets” as if he is in a position to know and Jeff took offense to this for some reason._
  2. How is Jeff this good at sword fighting? _He’s not. Not really. Star-Burns is just bad at it._
  3. How long will it take an ambulance to get here? _Twenty minutes, depending on traffic._
  4. Does Jeff have health insurance? _No, he does not._
  5. Who the hell invented corsets? _Catherine de Medici. Sadistic bitch._



Instead, Annie shouts, “Guys, stop! This is so stupid! Someone is going to get hurt!”

They ignore her. They are men, and like all men, they have a bad habit of ignoring women while they’re talking, especially women that are smarter than they are.

Britta, the Fool, who did not want to dress in a way that validated the patriarchal social norms of such an event and is stuck with the least flattering costume, provides commentary while eating a turkey leg.

“The man can’t talk about his feelings to save his life, but he’ll duel Star-Burns to the sprained ankle to protect your reputation,” Britta muses with a mouthful of turkey. It is unladylike, but Britta is no lady.

Annie scowls. “Oh please. Like anyone in their right mind would believe I’d have sex with Star-Burns,” she replies crossly.

In theory, Annie is offended that Jeff bought into the sexist idea that she needs a man to defend her honor.

In practice, she’s a little flattered.

“Man, the patriarchy sure does love its phallic symbols. Two sweaty men, trying to dominate each other with their socially acceptable substitute penises,” Britta jeers.

“Uh huh,” Annie murmurs. She is no longer paying attention to Britta. Her focus is on Sir Jeffrey, her knight in shining armor, who has ditched the armor and his shirt somehow and is all muscled and glistening in the sun. Annie too is only human.

Star-Burns suddenly lunges, but misjudges the distance. Jeff sidesteps down to a lower tread, spins and slashes Star-Burns’ backside, sending his opponent toppling off of the bleachers.

Star-Burns lands directly on top of Chang, who was minding his own business and definitely wasn’t lurking under the bleachers for some nefarious and incomprehensible reason. They’re fine. Probably.

“Huzzah!” The crowd erupts in celebration. Fireworks and streamers dance through the sky. Meade is spilled. Babies will be conceived this night. ‘Tis truly a glorious day.

The Dean Queen saunters up to ye olde microphone. He needed a king outfit, but this is the only one that fits him properly, according to him. “The winner, and champion of the first Greendale Community College Medieval Ultimate Renaissance Fighting Tournament, Sir Jeffrey!”

“Huzzah!” The crowd cheers again.

“They really need to work on the name,” Annie notes.

The Dean Queen, “DQ to his friends,” adorns Jeff with his victory sash with care, lingering just long enough to make it uncomfortable for everyone. Annie catches Jeff’s gaze and flashes him a sympathetic smile. Jeff grins that cocky grin back at her and she rolls her eyes.

“I can’t in good conscience recommend actually dating Jeff Winger, but I gotta say, the man is stupid in love with you,” Britta says knowingly.

Annie doesn’t reply. Suddenly it’s very warm.

Sir Jeffrey approaches the Princess and the Fool looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You broke a light sweat for me,” Annie says sweetly.

“Well, Star-Burns is creepy and I’m pretty sure he’s a drug dealer,” Jeff explains, like it’s no big deal. “I couldn’t allow such a scoundrel to sully your good name. ’Twould not be chivalrous.”

Jeff slips in and out of character, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Well then, I thank you good sir, for your entirely unnecessary, but nevertheless valorous act of gallantry,” Annie replies. “Pray, will you escort me to market? I’m quite thirsty.”

“Yeah you are,” Britta quips. No one laughs. They’re not paying attention to her.

“As you wish,” Jeff says. He offers his arm. “Milady.”

Annie takes it. “Milord.”

They leave without Britta.

“Really? Wow. Just like that, it’s like I’m not even here,” Britta pouts. “Inconceivable.”

* * *

“So you see, as your friend and former bang buddy, I have exclusive insight into both your mind and your heart,” Britta explains. “And by heart, I mean penis.”

“Okay, I’m cool with the fact that you and Jeff used to hook up on the down low, but part of me being cool about that requires that we not talk about it,” Troy complains.

“Whatever. The point is, even though Jeff Winger’s heart is three sizes too small, there’s still an Annie-shaped hole in it. Boom! Therapized!”

“Britta, I say this with love. Please choose another profession. Something that doesn’t require any emotional intelligence or people skills in general. Like a janitor. Or a teacher,” Jeff retorts.

“You’re not one to be talking about emotions,” Shirley scolds using her best mom voice. “You are clever in many ways Jeffrey, but when it comes to your feelings, you are a damn fool.”

* * *

The Edisons weren’t the most observant family in Greendale. They went to temple just often enough to avoid being missed by their rabbi, but they observed all the high holidays and even went the extra mile Hanukah so that the kids wouldn’t feel left out at Christmas time.

Annie misses it. She doesn’t often miss her family. She was never particularly close to her brother, her father barely called before her family disowned her and he never calls now, and her mother loved the idea of Annie more than she could ever love the genuine article.

Annie hasn’t been to temple since rehab. She isn’t ready to face her family yet, and it’s not like there are any other synagogues in Greendale. She’s better off without them.

But still, the holidays are hard.

Rehab was hard. Narcotics Anonymous was hard. Living above a Dildopolis was hard. But the hardest thing when she started at Greendale was the sheer loneliness of it all. Annie doesn’t know what she would do without the study group. Her family. Her _real_ family.

They don’t know the traditions, but they’re willing to learn for her sake. Even Shirley is making an effort to be more tolerant of those other false religious. Baby steps. She’s in the kitchen making latkes, kugel, and a brisket from recipes she found online. Apartment 303 may not be as spacious and luxurious as the house she grew up in, but it smells like home.

Troy and Abed help her light the menorah. Jeff, Britta and Pierce stand behind them silently as Annie recites the prayer, “ _Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b-mitzvotav, v-tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah,_ ” she sings softly.

Pierce manages to go the entire evening without saying anything anti-Semitic.

Later Annie teaches Troy and Abed how to play dreidel while the “grownups” chat among themselves in the kitchen. Shirley spies Jeff glancing at Annie while fiddling with a small thin box strapped in silver and blue paper. She decides the Christian thing to do would be to help him out.

“Troy? Abed? Can you boys give me some help in the kitchen please?” Shirley asks sweetly.

“But we’re playing dreidel,” Abed complains.

“Now.”

“C’mon Abed. We can play later,” Troy reassures him.

Jeff silently thanks Shirley and heads into the living room to join Annie. He hands her the present with a sheepish grin.

“Happy Hanukah Annie,” he says simply.

“Awww,” Annie coos. “That’s so sweet. Thanks Jeff!”

She unwraps the paper carefully, taking care not to tear it, because of course she does. Inside, there is a pack of her favorite purple gel pens along with a note written in purple ink.

_In case of ghosts, poltergeists, or any other pen-stealing specters._

_Love,_

_Jeff_

Jeff has told the group as a whole that he loves them a few times over the years. But this…this is just for her. She doesn’t care if the others are watching. She stands up on her tip toes and places a chaste, but loving kiss on Jeff’s lips.

She loves him. She’s known this for a while, even if she doesn’t know how to say it.

“How come she gets a present and the rest of us don’t?” Troy asks.

“You’re not Jewish,” Jeff retorts incredulously.

Annie is grateful for the interruption. She might have said or done something she’ll regret. Still, when she looks at Jeff and he looks at her, she wonders.

Shirley calls it googly eyes, but that doesn’t do it justice. Half of Annie and Jeff’s relationship is eye contact. They don’t spend that much time together alone, but even when they’re with the group, _especially_ when they’re with the group, Annie and Jeff often wander into their own little world of stolen glances and shared smiles.

The moment passes and the group mingles and chats and eats and listens to Abed pitch his version of A Christmas Carol. Shirley finds Jeff staring at the small flickering flame of the menorah, seemingly lost in thought.

“That was very sweet of you Jeffrey,” Shirley says. “Annie must be very special to you.”

“You know, I thought I got a raw deal when my dad bailed on me. But Annie…she had no one. And still, she’s not jaded or cynical or angry about the hand life dealt her. She’s just…amazing.”

“You should tell her that. I’m sure she’d like to hear it.”

Jeff sighs. “She has her whole life ahead of her and I’m…”

“Feeling sorry for you yourself?” Shirley asks shrewdly. “You’re older Jeffrey. You’re not old. You need to get over that. Life is hard, but it’s a whole lot easier with the right person by your side.”

“What if I’m not right for her?”

“That’s for her to decide. That girl loves you. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

* * *

“Annie, I know that you are a modern, independent woman, but you need a good man in your life,” Shirley explains. Britta tries to interject, but Shirley silences her with a gesture. “A partner. A friend. Someone to share the good times with and weather the bad times. Someone that loves all of you, not just the good parts. Given your age difference, I admit, I have some misgivings about the two of you being together and Jeffrey has many, many flaws. But he is a good man.”

Jeff and Annie are unable to speak. Annie feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, like her heart has been stripped bare. Jeff feels a lump forming in his throat and a stinging sensation in his eyes.

“Me next?” Abed asks. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

* * *

The trap goes off without a hitch. As they suspected, the Greendale Ghost is not an actual ghost. Just a crazy person in a ghost costume. Troy and Abed are disappointed that they didn’t get to use their ghost buster equipment, but Annie is grateful that she got to put her brains to work on a caper for once in addition to her beauty.

For the most part.

“Sorry we used you as bait,” Jeff says as he helps her out of the cage.

Annie shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. I can handle being objectified if it’s for a good cause. At least I didn’t have to chloroform anyone this time.”

“I guess that’s the price you pay when you’re both the smart one and the hot one.” He’s flirting again.

She flirts back. “True,” she says airily, giving her hair a toss. “Although, now that I think about it, we probably should have used you as the bait.”

“Why do you say that?” Jeff asks. Annie just smirks at him. “You know who it is, don’t you?”

“Spoilers,” Abed warns them.

The group approaches the Greendale Ghost, who is still struggling under the heavy net. They help him stand, then force him into a chair. Troy and Abed zip tie his arms to the chair and remove the netting, but they leave his mask on for the reveal.

“Alright,” Jeff announces. “Let’s see who you really are.” He removes the mask.

Jeff, Annie, Troy, Britta, Abed, and Shirley all shout in unison.

“Dean Pelton!?”

“Him?” Pierce chimes in a few seconds late.

Dean Pelton sighs in defeat. “Yes, it’s me. And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids. And Britta and Jeffrey and Shirley and Pierce.”

“Hey!” Britta protests. “Since when do I get lumped in with the old people?”

“Excuse me?” Shirley huffs.

“Who’s he talking about?” Pierce asks.

Troy looks disappointed. “I thought for sure it was Chang.”

“So did I,” Chang laments. He is eerily good at appearing out of nowhere. He’s fully clothed for once, which is good, but he’s also wearing a dog collar, complete with a large tag with the letter “C” on it, which is disconcerting.

Pierce is once again annoyed at being left out. “It could have been me. I can be villainous,” he insists.

Abed corrects him. “No, we’ve moved past that part of your character arc.”

“Yeah, you’ve gone from pompous old racist to mean old racist to bumbling, well-intentioned old racist. You’ve made real progress,” Troy says proudly.

“Thank you,” Pierce replies bashfully. He’s incredibly pleased.

“Why’d you do it Dean?” Jeff demands. “Why’d you steal everyone’s phones?”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say ‘steal.’ More like confiscate,” the Dean explains. The gang is not impressed. “Regardless, I may have sent some slightly unprofessional texts to all of you by mistake.”

“So why didn’t you steal Jeff’s phone?” Annie asks.

Dean Pelton stares at her for one, two, three seconds. “The point is,” he continues. “I think we’ve all learned a very valuable lesson today.”

Jeff is unwilling to let him off the hook. “I don’t mean to go all Britta on you, but Greendale already has some serious issues with civil liberties. You crossed a line today.”

“Yeah! What is this, 1984?” Annie asks, accidentally imitating Britta.

“Please don’t help me.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, like you two so innocent,” Dean Pelton pushes back. “Always partnering up on cutesy capers so you can hold hands in the dark and act on your creepy urges. I mean, get a room already.”

“He’s got a point,” Abed acknowledges.

“Abed, shut up. You,” Jeff orders, pointing at Dean Pelton, “Phones. Hand them over.”

The dean relents. “Oh, all right. I don’t suppose I can convince you to keep this to yourselves, can I?”

“That depends. What are you offering?” Jeff asks.

“Free water polo classes?” Dean Pelton offers.

“Who’s the teacher?”

“Yours truly.”

“Pass. What else have you got?”

“It’s worth a P.E. credit.”

“Which I don’t need.”

“Actually, I could use a P.E. credit,” Abed says, raising his hand.

“Abed.”

“Shutting up.”

* * *

“The Dean has a point. About the cutesy capers, not the water polo or the getting a room part,” Abed explains thoughtfully. “Although that probably wouldn’t hurt. There’s a ton of unresolved sexual tension between you.”

“Abed,” Jeff says in a warning tone.

Abed is undeterred. “You both have had legitimate reasons not to want to be in a relationship with each other. ‘Had,’ as in past tense. Annie’s matured, to the point where she loves Jeff as he is instead of what she thinks she can mold him into. Jeff’s genuinely selfless, to the point where he cares more about Annie’s happiness than his own. The two of you have something with each other that you don’t have with the rest of us, or anyone else for that matter. Something special. Kind of like me and Troy, but with more romance and less make-believe.”

Annie stars to cry. “Oh Abed…” she starts, deeply touched. Abed doesn’t have the same set of tools for displaying affection for his friends that the rest of them do, but that never stops him from showing them how much he cares.

“Most people aren’t that lucky. You should stop lying to yourselves and to each other. You’ll be happier. I want you both to be happy. We all do.”

Jeff forgets sometimes that Abed isn’t just his quirky, imaginative, TV obsessed, half Arab, half Polish friend. Abed sees the world through a fundamentally different lens.

“Abed, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here. I really do,” Jeff says gently. “But Annie and I need to figure this out in our own time and in our own way. Please respect that.”

“Guys, can you give us a minute?” Annie asks softly.

“Sure,” Britta says. “Take your time.”

They’ve done all they can do. With that, Abed, Britta, Troy, Shirley, and Pierce leave the study room quickly and quietly.

Annie lets out a deep sigh, like she spent the last hour holding her breath. “That was intense.”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies. He’s not sure what else to say. He isn’t often on the receiving end of a Winger speech, let alone five of them.

“You okay?” Annie asks.

“I think so. You?”

“Oh, you know. I just had my closest friends dissect our relationship in front of me for the last half an hour. No big deal.”

Jeff runs his fingers through his hair. He feels a stress headache coming on. “Look, I do think we should talk about this,” he says cautiously. “Just, not here, not now.”

“Where?” Annie asks. “When?”

Because of course he’s going to put it off. Jeff Winger loves her, but he loves her from a safe distance. It’s the only way he knows how.

They both hear the click. It isn’t the same click of the door shutting. Besides, the door was already shut. But this click came from the door too, which could only mean one thing.

Jeff tries the door. It doesn’t budge. “It’s locked,” Jeff announces, stating the obvious. Rooms that trap their occupants inside when locked are an obvious fire hazard, but on a campus where half the fire alarms are fake, fire safety isn’t exactly a priority at Greendale.

“Campus security has all the keys,” Annie says, puzzled. “Why would they lock the doors in the middle of the day?”

“They wouldn’t,” Jeff says grimly. “But a psychotic former Spanish teacher turned student turned security guard turned dictator turned Changnesiac might.”

* * *

Meanwhile, a dark shadow approaches Abed in the library.

Abed nods. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

‘Kevin’ smiles with that same dead-eyed smile he’s been using for the last several months. Abed knows the risks inherent in dealing with someone crazy enough to commit to this Changnesia bit for as long as Chang has, but if it pushes the story forward, it’s worth it.

Probably. Maybe.


	4. Act 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, we can talk. Other people do it, and we’re way smarter than them.

“I am going to kill Abed.”

“Why Abed?” Annie asks. “This whole stupid intervention was Britta’s stupid idea.” She though Britta was past meddling in her love life after Vaughn, but it looks like that lesson didn’t stick. Which is super cool and mature of her.

“That’s just what he wants us to think,” Jeff seethes. There’s a manic energy to his anger, not unlike the time he got dosed with monkey gas and took a fire axe to the study room table. “Britta’s just the sour face of this whole stupid plan. Abed’s the puppet master. Remember the chicken? Remember the chicken Annie?”

Annie remembers the chicken. To this day she has never owned a better backpack. She misses that backpack. It had so many zippers and pockets.

She tries to give Abed, and the rest of the group by extension, the benefit of the doubt.

“Maybe this is just some misunderstanding. Maybe someone locked us in here by mistake.”

Jeff shoots her a skeptical glare. He knows her well enough to know that even she, Annie the eternal optimist, doesn’t believe that. After all, she knows firsthand how easily the members of the Greendale Seven can convince each other take things too far. She’s been on both sides of it.

Plus, trapping the romantic leads in a room to force them to talk about their feelings like they’re on a TV show? That storyline has Abed written all over it.

They need a way out. Preferably one that doesn’t damage school property. The study room has already suffered enough. Annie walks over to the vent, the one that Annie’s Boobs (the monkey, not her body parts) and later Chang took refuge in. She pops off the cover, then gets on her hands and knees, preparing to crawl inside the vent. The dusty, cramped, claustrophobic, feral monkey infested vent.

“What are you doing?” Jeff asks.

“I can fit through the vents,” she says, with a lot more confidence than she possesses.

“Seriously?”

Annie turns her head to face Jeff, who looks positively gigantic from this angle. “I’m smaller than Chang. If he can do it, I can do it,” she explains. She feels better about the plan already. “There must be another opening somewhere nearby. Once I’m out, I’ll go to the security office and have them let you out. Simple.”

Jeff sighs. “Can we put a pin in that plan for now?” he asks.

“Why?” Annie asks impatiently. “Do you have a better idea?”

He holds up his cell phone. “We could just call campus security and have them let us out.”

Annie feels a deep and profound shame that she tried to solve the problem like a cartoon character instead of thinking it through. Seriously, why didn’t she think of that?

“Do you have their number?” Annie asks, brushing past the embarrassment. Jeff offers his free hand and helps her up. She brushes the wrinkles out of her skirt and resolves to introduce more pants into her wardrobe. Skirts and dresses are pretty, but pants are more practical.

“Yeah, I saved it on my phone after ‘Kevin’ showed up. Seemed like a sensible precaution at the time. His character alignment might not be evil anymore, but it’s still chaotic.”

“Did you just make a Dungeons and Dragons reference?”

“Shut up.”

They head back to their seats. Jeff turns his to face her before he sits down. He finds the number in his phone, but he hesitates to press Send.

“Is something wrong?” Annie asks. She briefly considers the possibility of some kind of cellphone jamming technology, but Abed wouldn’t go that far. Probably. Maybe.

“I can press send and get campus security here in a few minutes,” Jeff says thoughtfully. “Or,” he pauses, looking up at Annie, “we can talk.”

Annie stares at him. Is he saying what she thinks he’s saying?

“Who are you and what have you done with Jeff Winger?” she asks, opting for caution with a dash of humor.

“Maybe I’m from one of those dark timelines Abed’s always talking about,” Jeff replies. He knows this dance. They’ve done it countless times before.

Annie shakes her head. “No, you’re definitely my Jeff,” she says. She didn’t mean _my_ Jeff, but whoops, too late, it’s already out there. Emboldened, she takes another risk. “Besides, Abed says Evil Jeff and Evil Annie are already together in the Darkest Timeline. Plus, Evil Jeff only has one arm.”

“He’s a lucky guy.”

Annie’s tired of the dance. “A while back, I asked you if you wanted me or not,” she says.

Jeff nods. “I remember. You charged into the men’s room and said, ‘Either you want me or you don’t. What’s it gonna be?’ It left an impression. I didn’t give you an answer, not a real answer anyway. So, you asked Rich out.”

He was hurt and jealous, but also a little proud of her that day. Annie’s at her best when she challenges him. When she doesn’t let Jeff string her along, twist her feelings or treat her like crap. When she’s this beautiful, formidable, take-no-prisoners force of nature.

“He turned me down. Said I was too young.”

“He’s an idiot,” Jeff says. “And you…you are so much braver than I am.”

“Look where that got me,” Annie says bitterly.

Jeff winces. He’s really done a number on her, hasn’t he? He never wanted to hurt her, but good intentions don’t amount to much on their own. He doesn’t like where this is going, so he decides to take the conversation in a different direction. “Do you remember when I made up that conspiracy theory class?”

Annie smiles. “I remember. It was our first caper. My little car blew up. You saved me.” A whale of an exaggeration, but it’s sweet of her to put it like that.

“When we confronted the dean, you said something about me burying you like a shameful secret, the summer after the Transfer Dance. After we kissed.”

Annie has mixed feelings about that memory. The kiss was great. The rest, not so much. “Technically we made out,” she says glibly. Turns out she can deflect too.

“Did you mean what you said?” Jeff asks.

Annie frowns. Honesty. That’s what all this is about, right? “A little,” she admits. “Yes. It hurt, you know? I was a nineteen-year-old girl with a crush. I thought you were going to sweep me off my feet, not brush me aside like it didn’t mean anything.”

“I never actually apologized to you for that, did I?” Jeff asks sadly. “I know this is kind of late, but I’m really sorry.”

Annie’s never seen this level of unqualified sincerity from Jeff. “Better late than never.”

“For the record, I don’t regret it,” Jeff says sincerely. “The Transfer Dance, the debate, the bathroom, student council, model U.N., the time we pretended we were married at that stupid hotel. Each and every one of those little moments we’ve had over the years. I don’t regret any of it.”

Annie is justifiably skeptical. Just because Jeff’s feeling nostalgic doesn’t mean this is going anywhere. “Would you be saying this to me if our friends didn’t lock us in the study room? Are you going to change your mind when they let us out?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Jeff admits. “I’ve had some version of this conversation with you in my head so many times. I could never figure out how to do it for real.”

“I’m in your head huh?” Annie says, gently teasing him. She gets it. She does the same thing. She has a long and complicated relationship with Imaginary Jeff.

“In my head, and in my heart,” Jeff says. He cringes at his choice of words. “God, that sounded cheesy.”

“It sounded honest.” Annie could get used to Honest Jeff.

“For a long time, I pretended that the reason I kept my distance from you was because you were so young. And that was probably true for a while, but it hasn’t been for a long time.”

Annie nods. “You told me it was a crutch. A way to avoid complicating our relationship.”

“The more complicated a relationship becomes, the more likely it is to fail. And I don’t want us to fail,” Jeff says solemnly. “But our well-meaning idiot friends are right. We can’t keep dancing around each other forever. Even if it means risking what we have.”

Annie reaches out and takes his hand in hers. She likes his hands. They’re big and strong, but gentle. “I’m scared too Jeff,” she admits. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“The thing is, what seems like a risk to you feels like an inevitability to me.”

“Why?” she asks. This is the part she doesn’t understand. Age gap, family baggage, commitment issues, meddling from the study group, a jealous vindictive Dean. These are obstacles, but they aren’t insurmountable. Why does he assume they’re doomed?

“This place is a detour for you, a speed bump on the high-speed interstate of your life. You can go anywhere you want to, do anything you set your mind to. But there’s a very real chance that I’m going to spend the rest of my life here.”

Of all the stupid, defeatist, melancholic nonsense. “That’s not true,” Annie insists.

“Yes, it is. I’m not…special Annie. I never was. I’m only a big fish in this tiny pond. Greendale is the peak of my potential. I got by with good looks and charm and both are going to fade sooner than I can handle. All that talk about nutting up and dying alone,” he says bitterly, “it’s just talk. The truth is, I am terrified that I am going to end up old and lonely and crazy.”

“Like Pierce?” Annie asks.

“Actually, I was thinking about Leonard. But we both know Pierce is going to die long before the rest of us. Troy will probably end up traveling the world to find himself or something. Shirley has a husband and kids to look after. Abed will end up directing TV shows in L.A. Man, they are going to love him out there. And you’ll be the next J. Edgar Hoover. You know, before you run for President.”

“What about Britta?” she asks. Not because she’s jealous or thinks that anything lingers between her and Jeff, but simply because he left her out of his study group prophecies.

“Oh, Britta’s stuck here too. Once you graduate, there’s no way she ever will. She’ll drop out, start a cat rescue out of her apartment and make ends meet bartending poorly.”

Annie realizes a few things in this moment. The first is that Jeff needs a better therapist. The second is that she’s truly humbled by just how much faith Jeff has in her. The third is that she’s absolutely devastated by how little faith he has in himself.

“So _that’s_ what’s holding you back? Not our age difference. Not the fact that we’re in different places in our lives. You’re afraid that I’m what, going to wake up one day and decide you’re not enough for me?” Annie asks incredulously.

“Yes…?” Jeff says, awkwardly inflecting it as a question. When you put it like that…

Annie briefly tries to find a way to put this gently. She decides against it. Jeff needs some tough love. “That is…by far…the _dumbest_ thing I’ve ever heard. And I live with Troy and Abed,” she cries indignantly. Self-pitying sad sack is not a good look on Jeff Winger. “I mean yes, our lives are going to change. That’s inevitable. But who’s to say we can’t change together? Help each other. _Support_ each other! Build a life together. Other people do it, and we’re way smarter than them.”

She might have a point there. Jeff’s entire view on romantic love is that people can only grow apart. He wants to be wrong. He wants to believe her.

“What if it doesn’t have to fail?” Annie asks. “What if we can just _be_ together, and yeah, maybe it isn’t perfect, but who cares? What if it could be really, really good?”

“How?” Jeff asks.

Annie shrugs. “We work at it. Together.”

If there’s anything that Annie Edison believes, it’s that with hard work, perseverance, and a can-do attitude, they can achieve anything.

“You think this is really complicated, but it’s not. It’s really, really simple,” she says quietly. “Either you want me or you don’t. What’s it gonna be?”

Memories of Annie flash through Jeff’s mind. If this were a TV show, it would be set against a poignant, bittersweet love song, something by Taylor Swift, or Elliott Smith if they really want the audience to reach for the Xanax. But this isn’t TV, and Jeff isn’t Abed. So instead, it’s just her.

It’s that bright, uninhibited smile when he dances with her in that slinky skeleton costume.

It’s when she rolls her eyes at him when he offers to write his feelings in a Hello Kitty notebook if she’ll be his friend again.

It’s the look on her face when he tells her that if they were married, he wouldn’t think of flirting with other women.

It’s paintball and conspiracies and model U.N. and every other time she was an unrepentant badass.

It’s the first time she flashes those doe eyes at him, and every time after that.

It’s every look they shared across the study room table.

It’s kissing her under those deviously romantic fairy lights.

It’s when she lets her hair down during debate prep and he sees her, really sees Annie for the first time.

He could kiss her, and maybe that would be enough. But a kiss isn’t an answer. It’s a distraction. A copout. Very Season One. Jeff Winger spent his whole life taking the path of least resistance.

Annie Edison deserves better than that.

“I want you Annie,” Jeff says. He’s surprised at how calm he is. “Not just today, or tomorrow, for the next couple of weeks. I don’t want to just wing it and see where this goes. I want a plan. I want a future with you in it. I want to stop dancing around this thing. I want it to be real.”

“I want that too,” Annie whispers. She squeezes his hand. Her eyes are shiny and wet.

Jeff shifts into lawyer mode, persuasive, charismatic, seductive even, but with something new and genuine behind it. Annie smiles at the familiar cadence, like she knows what’s coming. She likes this Jeff. He knows what he wants.

“I don’t want to go back to my old life, and I don’t want to be a footnote in yours. I don’t want to imagine some grim future where I’m stuck at Greendale slowly drinking myself to death. I want to build an amazing future, wherever that takes us, with you.”

* * *

On the other side of the wall, a separate, related conversation takes place.

“What’s going on?” Britta whispers loudly. Her ear is pressed against the wall. “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

“Are they banging yet?” Pierce asks through a mouthful of beef jerky.

Troy is unsurprised, but still indignant. “Dude! Seriously?”

“What? We were all thinking it.”

“Are there tears?” Shirley asks. “Did he make her cry? Did she make him cry?”

“No tears,” Abed replies, quickly and quietly. He’s listening through a glass pressed against the wall. He’s the only one that thought to bring one and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Better. Winger speech.”

* * *

“I want to be there as you accomplish your goals and help you pursue your dreams,” Jeff continues. “I want to check off items on your lists. I want to make lists with you. I want us to have goals and dreams we share. I want to put in the hard work of making us work. I want you to be happy, and I want to be at least partially responsible for making you happy.”

Annie discretely pinches her leg to make sure this is really happening. It hurts. This is not a dream. This is not a Dreamatorium. This is very real.

“Eventually, I want you to meet my mom. I want to meet yours, if for no other reason than to tell her what an idiot she is for pushing you away. And someday, not today, not tomorrow, probably not for a few years, but someday, I want to ask you to marry me.”

He hesitates. Maybe he said too much. Maybe he scared her off. _Idiot._

“We can make a list, work out the details,” Annie says. She squeezes his hand and smiles reassuringly. “So far, that all sounds pretty good.”

Jeff stands up, pacing to compose himself, then picks up steam again. “People who make greeting cards, Lifetime movies and lazy, unimaginative network sit-coms pretend that love is something that just happens to you. But it’s not. It’s a choice. You never needed to teach me how to love you Annie. I chose to love you a long time ago and now I’m choosing to tell you.”

Annie stands up too, walking toward him with that look in her eye.

“This isn’t a whim, this isn’t an impulse, and this isn’t a mistake. This is a choice. I choose you Annie Edison, and I’ll keep choosing you for as long as you’ll have me.”

He doesn’t dare blink. He matches her gaze and walks toward her. This is a new dance and they don’t know all the moves, but they’ve always been good at improvising.

“I want a lot for us Annie. We’ve got time. Right now, I want to take you out on a date,” Jeff says. “What do you think?”

Annie stands close to him, then grabs his shirt with both hands and pulls him in closer. She tilts her head up to smile at him, then tilts her head slightly sidewise to draw him in.

“I think you should kiss me right now, or you might regret it for the rest of your life,” she whispers.

He brushes her hair out of her face with one hand and wraps the other around her waist. He kisses her like he’s never kissed her or anyone else before. Like he’s done it a hundred times, but it never gets old. Like it’s joyful, effortless, and fun. Like she’s his best friend and he knows her so well and for so long that it’s okay if they have a bad day or a fight or just phone it in sometimes. Like he’s never going to take it back or pretend to regret it. Like it's the most important thing he's ever done.

Like he loves her.

“I love you Annie,” Jeff says when they come up for air. It's easy, because it's true.

“I love you too,” Annie replies. Her eyes mirror her words.

She leans into his chest and he holds her. She listens to him breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest rocks her back and forth ever so slightly. They’re only aware of each other until they hear the distinctive click of the door unlocking.

They take their time leaving the study room, and by the time they’re outside the others are gone. It’s okay. They’ll catch up later.

“Milady,” Jeff says. Only this time he offers his hand instead of the crook of his arm.

“Milord,” Annie replies. She takes it. And together, hand in hand, they go on a long overdue first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't be a fanfiction episode of Community without a proper outro, so stay tuned for that. Thank you to everyone for your kind comments and encouragement. The Community fan community is just the best. Special shout out to my friend Annie (I know, right?) who encouraged me to get back into writing after a long hiatus.
> 
> #sixseasonsandamovie


	5. Outro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding! (episode)

_In the not too distant future…_

Jeff has a bit of grey in his beard, but he wears it with good humor. Once he was downright pathologically afraid of aging, but he leans into it now, and it suits him. In the courtroom, he commands authority. In the classroom, he conveys wisdom.

Annie’s hair is longer now. It makes her look older, but in a good way. Like she’s seen the world and knows a few secrets. She wears pantsuits with a badge and gun most days, but today she’s wearing a white dress.

Shirley and Britta stand as bridesmaids. They wear blue, to match Annie’s eyes. Troy and Pierce serve as groomsman. It’s a small wedding party, but no one else has earned a place there.

Abed serves as the officiant. Nobody questions how a Muslim got ordained as a rabbi. The Internet is a strange and powerful thing.

Jeff stands under the chuppah with Abed, Shirley, Britta and Troy. It’s a wooden canopy traditionally used in Jewish weddings, vastly different from what Pierce envisioned when he first heard the word.

Pierce walks Annie down the aisle, then joins Troy at Jeff’s side. He’s the closest thing Annie has to a father in her adult life. The format is a little unorthodox, but that’s to be expected with this couple and their family.

Jeff and Annie greet each other.

“Milady.”

“Milord.”

Abed greets the crowd. “Friends, family, Chang.” Yes, Chang is there. It wouldn’t be safe to exclude him. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Jeff Winger and Annie Edison. In the years they’ve been together, their love and friendship has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife.”

Study Room F is an unusual wedding venue, but this isn’t the strangest thing to happen in this room.

“Unfortunately, none of us are actually students here anymore except Britta, so we’re going to have to move this thing along before we get kicked out of the study room,” Abed explains. “Annie, Jeff, I believe you have prepared vows that you will read now. The rest of you, keep those handkerchiefs handy. It’s about to get emotional.

Annie says something heartwarming and sweet, with lots of emotional resonance. Abed hasn’t figured that part out yet.

Jeff does the same. His vows trigger all the feelings too, but without one-upping Annie. Again, Abed’s still working on that.

This part he knows though. “By the power invested in me by the State of Colorado, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Jeff kisses Annie. Cue crane shot for maximum audience impact. Together they hold hands and break the glass.

“Mazel Tov!” the crowd cheers. It’s mostly Greendale students, but Jeff’s mom is there too, and so is Abed’s dad, and Jonathan Banks is there too for some reason.

“Oh, that’s nice!” Shirley cries.

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry,” Troy chokes.

“Me too!” Britta sobs.

“I’m not crying, you’re crying!” Pierce blusters.

“What’s he doing in there?” Jeff asks his wife. He’s off book.

“Abed? Are you okay?” Annie asks Rabbi Abed. “It’s getting late. You’ve been in there a long time.”

Abed sighs. He’ll have to pick this up later. “And scene. End simulation.” The wedding disappears.

* * *

Abed steps out of the mobile Dreamatorium to find a concerned Jeff and Annie. At least, he thinks they’re concerned. He’s pretty sure those are concerned faces.

It’s late, which means Jeff is staying the night. He spends a lot more time at their apartment now. Which is cool, because Abed likes hanging out with Jeff and doesn’t mind being the third wheel. Or the fourth wheel if it’s him, Troy, Annie and Jeff. Or the fifth wheel if Britta is there too.

Abed should say something now. “I’m okay. I’ve just been running through some new scenarios considering recent developments.”

“Do you need any help?” Jeff asks.

He doesn’t. What Abed does need is to invest in some noise canceling headphones. Annie is a lot louder than Britta and sometimes she and Jeff forget to check if Abed is in the apartment before they go to her room to have sex. They’re still in what most people call the honeymoon phase. Britta calls it the “doin’ it a lot” phase. It’s cool though. Annie makes pancakes in the morning when Jeff stays over, which more than makes up for Jeff hogging the bathroom.

“No thanks. It’s better if I do this alone. I don’t want to spoil the ending for you.”

Annie tells Jeff to let it go with a look. They’ve gotten better at communicating, both verbally and non-verbally.

“Okay,” Annie says happily. “Well, let us know if you need anything. Good night.”

Jeff plants an affectionate kiss on Annie’s forehead before they head to her bedroom. She gives Abed a little wave as she closes the door.

Abed steps back into the Dreamatorium. He’s happy for his friends. And about the pancakes. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”


End file.
